


lavender sunsets

by KoreRosemarinus



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author has a plant boner, F/M, I just think theyre neat okay, I live in Northern California so many references sorry not sorry, Nursery, Plants, Silicon Valley Trash, fluff-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25216858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoreRosemarinus/pseuds/KoreRosemarinus
Summary: For @reyshines on Twitter:Every year, Ben Solo gets away from the hubbub of San Francisco and escapes to his family's old cabin in the rural mountains of California. He goes to see an old family friend in the local town of Takodana, and fate draws its hand.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	lavender sunsets

**Author's Note:**

> This baby fun thing was the byproduct of @reyshines' AU generator game where I sent in some nature photos from near my home and they came up with this brilliant AU idea that I hope I can do justice to. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT:
> 
> the LOML @storiesofreylo made me an AMAZING moodboard!!!
> 
> EDIT Parte Dos:
> 
> @reyshines also made me a beautiful green moodboard <3 thank youuuuuuu

* * *

Ben Solo is many things: burnt-out, semi-millennial (he doesn’t get the oat milk thing), and downright grumpy, to name a few. He also happens to be a corporate lawyer in San Francisco, working sixty hours a week at Snoke + Palpatine, LLC. Furthermore, he is a 34 year old bachelor, which his dear mother will never let him forget. He is head-to-toe Silicon Valley garbage: he even has the AllBirds and Equinox membership to prove it. But he, like Tim Gunn says on his mother’s favorite reruns, makes it work. The casual observer or rogue tourist would not look twice at Mr. Solo on the street and think him to be out of place in the hum-drum of the Financial District: however he would care to disagree. He constantly feels the bleak frigidity of loneliness that one experiences as a byproduct of urban success. He craves the soothing smell of the redwood pines, the hum of rivers and the small choirs of warblers and jays. The moment Ben removes himself from the grey fog of the City, he feels freedom in his breath and the bubbling of peace behind his eyes.

The esteemed Mr. Solo has made it an annual tradition (as well as a mandatory sanity check or he would actually deign to murder some of the senior staff at the firm) to go to a small cabin in the mountains near Lake Tahoe. The cabin in question was owned by his parents, when he was growing up, but eventually the ownership fell to him as his parents got older and did not crave the mountain air as much as they did the tannic and alcoholic fluids of the famous Napa Valley. Ben adored the many trips his family would take to this cabin: he remembered the adventures by the Lake with Poe, the neighbor’s boy, the fishing trips with his dad and Uncle Chewie, and reading on the porch with his mom when the sun was high. The memories of his youth were tinted with a yellow-green hue in his mind, and even now Ben could still remember how alive the woods felt as he ran through the trees, and how the sunlight glowed in his mother’s eyes as she held him on the porch while he read out his favorite stories. He felt warmth in his soul and laughter curling on the edges of his lips whenever he revisited those memories.

In a minute attempt to reclaim part of that happiness that dances in those memories (the last time things were good, to be honest), Ben began this tradition once he finished law school: he would visit the cabin and just spend a week or two unplugged from the world, where he would read, sleep, and sometimes go into the nearby town of Takodana for the occasional merriment and grocery run. There is always something alluring about small towns and how they make our lives seem so much easier than they are, and if there’s anything Ben appreciates on his vacations, its simplicity.

In this particular small town, there was a long-time family friend by the name of Maz Kanata. She was one of those people that everyone seemed to know, for one reason or another. She was a long term resident of Takodana, so much so that people seemed to think she had been in that town for almost one thousand years. She had quite the prolific life, once claiming to have mediated “aggressive negotiations” and labor disputes in foreign lands (which Ben’s father to this day will neither confirm nor deny is how the family met Maz), while also owning many businesses all across the world. No one really knew how she ended up in Takodana, not even Ben’s parents, but Maz always felt that she could always feel the energy all around her best in this little town. She always told Ben as a child that if he listened close enough, he could hear the little whispers between the redwoods and the giggles of the dandelions, as if they were bursting with secret unseen life.

On the second day of his current stay, Ben went to see Maz to give his usual annual greetings, clad in a set of "Silicon Valley elite casual" clothes (jeans, a button down, and Oxford shoes, of course), to drop off a recent Nora Roberts recommendation from his mother. The two women shared a dedicated adoration for the author’s simple love stories that never seemed to be too fussy and had the right amount of drama for their demographic. Ben, an adamant bibliophile himself, would normally be embarrassed beyond belief holding one of these cheesy romances in hand, but felt at ease knowing he wouldn’t be recognized by anyone of much importance in this small town. He also learned from boyhood to tolerate his mother’s requests, even if they weren’t always within his parameters of acceptable. However, this did not mean the family was always amicable, especially during Ben’s teenage years. Actually, it was only until recent years that the family mended its internal scars of distrust and bitterness in the pursuit of a more loving future.

While Ben was wholly grateful for the repaired but fragile family bonds of the Skywalker-Solo clan, he did not miss running his mother’s errands. The bright side of this errand was that Maz’s latest lucrative operation was a nursery, affectionately dubbed “Nymeve Nursery”, and Ben was looking forward to looking at potential new additions to his San Francisco dwellings. He currently had quite the collection of air plants and succulents, and was researching (thoroughly, like a good former Stanford Law grad) on adding a few pots of herbs to help mitigate his bland cooking habits.

Ben’s white Tesla pulled up to the front of the nursery: a repurposed small home tucked between Dex’s Diner and Chalmun’s Cantina on Republic Street. It seemed almost serendipitous to him that there was an open spot, but then again, he wasn’t in the big city anymore. Maybe it was the way the wind blew, or how the sun seemed to give off a beautiful golden ochre ray that day, but it seemed almost fated that Ben got that parking spot. Or maybe he needed to get ahead of his sleep debt, who’s to say. But if there was anything that Ben Solo knew, is that there was no such thing as coincidence.

He got out of his (arguably tacky) vehicle, book in hand, and walked to the door. A bell jingled and he looked inside at the nursery: the walls were bursting at the seams with verdant plants and every comprehensible form of knick-knack hung up on display. A booming voice caught sight of him and bellowed: “Ben Solo!”

Although there was no one in the shop (it was 11am on a Sunday, a high turnout would have been cause for panic), Ben felt the immediate grasp of discomfort and gave a tilted smile as he waved towards the small shadow in the back of the shopfront. “Hey, Maz, how’s it going?” he brokenly replied. If there was anything a life with Leia Organa taught him, it was to stick the landing under pressure, especially with interactions in the face of social anxiety.

A universally short woman, fitted with large glasses and worn overalls and sneakers, strode forward to the door from a back entrance leading to what Ben assumed was the main nursery. Her grey hair was pulled back into a bun and was ornamented with a navy floral bandana. A set of various keys jingled in harmony with her silver bangles as she walked. No matter how much Ben grew up, he always found it strange to see the adults in his life grow older, but for some reason Maz was always the same to him. She always gave the same sure-footed and determined gaze that could eviscerate powerful men and simultaneously calm children’s temper tantrums. It was a beautiful blend of kind strength only present in older women and mythological goddesses. She gave an easy-going smile that complimented her eyes and greeted him, “Look who decided to drop in.”

Ben, whose palms were starting to moisten around the book, quickly replied, “It’s good to see you Maz, how have things been?”

“Oh, can’t complain,” she responded, as she wiped her hands off with a small rag that was in her side pocket, “Managed to get this place up and running pretty quick. Your mom told me you had a little delivery for me?”

He held out the book for her to take, “Yep, here’s the book Mom wanted me to pass on.”

The older woman gave an uncharacteristic squeal (as much as an infinitely older woman could) and snatch the book right out of Ben’s hands, “Oh my god, she is an angel on earth, I just finished the previous one last night. Give her and your father my thanks and love.”

He nodded, “Will do.”

The shopkeeper turned and set the book down on the cash wrap behind her, shifting into her business woman persona: “Anything I can sell you, hot shot San Francisco lawyer?”

The hot shot San Francisco (corporate) lawyer gave a small chuckle in response to the light teasing and countered with, “Actually, there is something: do you have any herbs I could take a look at? I’m trying to build out my plant selection at home.”

Fully putting on her businesswoman act, Maz took Ben by the arm and began to walk with him toward the back entrance to the store front, ready to sell him a plethora of plants that he may or may not have needed: “Of course! We have a wonderful selection, let me show you.”

A loud ring called out from the older woman’s pocket. The pair stopped as she pulled out an older iPhone. Maz began to frown: “Sorry, dear, I have to take this. Do you mind going out yourself? One of my employees should be watering still and should be able to help you.”

Ben politely nodded and replied, “Of course, no problem at all.”

Maz took her arm out of Ben’s and walked towards a small office behind the cash wrap, holding her phone to her ear and muttering grievances about what Ben could only assume was a delivery mishap. Not wanting to delay plant shopping, Ben stepped forward into the main nursery. He was nearly overwhelmed by the rows of flower and fauna that took up the small yard area, but nevertheless wasn’t put off by it as he took in his surroundings.

And that’s when he saw her. A young woman, siena brown hair pulled back into a low bun, adorning worn jeans and a loose t-shirt, holding a watering can in hand, and having full-blown conversations with plants on the left edge of the yard. If Ben had to guess, she was tending to a group of lavender.

“My gosh!” the woman exclaimed with a soft and tender cooing voice, “Look how much you’ve bloomed, Sir and Lady lavender! I’m so proud of you both!”

Ben, who had seen all manner of crazy as an occupational hazard of living in San Francisco, was not immediately put off by the unusual behavior. In fact, he found the conversation somewhat endearing, which he may not have found otherwise if he were on Market Street at rush hour. Maybe it was the vacation brain, or the fact he felt comfort in being surrounded by the various forms of plant life, but Ben gave a small but audible chuckle.

The young woman, slightly alarmed, immediately twisted to look towards Ben and squawked and waved, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you, can I help you?”

It was then when Ben saw the panic in the young woman’s glowing hazel eyes that he had a feeling that he was done for, and that he was even more sure now that coming to Nymeve Nursery was predestined. He took in the vision of her: her hair was slightly out of place, framing her cheekbones slightly, and her cheeks were slightly tinted from the morning sun. The Romantics could not have painted a better portrait of beauty among nature, Ben was sure. His heart started to thump, and he heard the beats become louder in his ears the longer he stared.

The wind blew, and the leaves on the plants tussled, as if they were giggling upon witnessing a budding romance among themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm debating whether to expand and make this a mini-multific so let me know what you guys think!
> 
> Harass me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/korerosemarinus) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/korerosemarinus)!
> 
> **Minor Star Wars References:**  
> (Lake) Nymeve  
> Dex's Diner  
> Chalmun's Cantina


End file.
